Page 19 of My Mountain Man Rescuer

He pulled off his Ghostface mask and dropped it to the ground. The dark hoodie he wore concealed his identity. “Go,” he ordered.

I sat on the bike and handed Carly the helmet. She pulled it on, tightened the strap, and wrapped her arms around my waist. With no other choice, I turned on the engine and rode off into the night.

The winding, narrow roads that led to the waterfall took us beyond the residential area of Woodbridge Falls and toward the hilly, steep path that could be dangerous when wet or icy. Tonight, a storm brewed overhead. The wind had picked up, and the clouds twisted above our heads. Soon, fat drops of rain began to fall, reducing visibility.

Behind me, I heard the killer rev his engine.

I didn’t want to keep Carly exposed to this weather. Not the precarious drop to the rocky shore below us. Or the slippery asphalt that led toward the covered bridge ahead.

I had to find a way to leave her there while I faced the killer alone.

Carly screamed a second before I felt a jarring impact and the bike fishtailed before I could gain control. We pitched to the right, and I fought to keep us from tumbling over the edge of the road to our death. Carly nearly climbed onto my back, and I had to shout at her to stay seated.

My anger surged. This asshole placed her in harm’s way without a thought for her well-being.

He would answer for that.

The bridge loomed closer as the rain fell in heavy sheets, drenching us and the bike.

We jolted forward as the killer’s bike rammed into us a second time. This time, I was prepared. We barely shifted in place, increasing speed as we hurtled toward the bridge. I soared through the opening as we jostled in place, our asses bouncing on the seat.

Carly tapped my shoulder. “Stop! Stop, Beau!”

I slowed down and spun the bike to face the entrance to the bridge.

What I saw didn’t make sense. The killer pushed down his hood. It shouldn’t have been empty space. What I saw defied logic. He didn’t have a head.

A deep, sinister laugh followed.

“The Headless Horseman,” Carly cried. “He’s real!”

No, he fucking wasn’t. This asshole found a way to deceive us. To use technology to his advantage.

I couldn’t let him win. He wasn’t going to hurt anyone else.

I shut off my bike and stood. “Stay here, Carly. Whatever happens, don’t leave the bridge.”

“What? Why?”

“You remember the old tale, right? The rules? He can’t cross the bridge. You’re safe.” I hoped she would believe me and listen. I couldn’t focus if I thought she was in danger.

“What about you?”

“I’m going to end this.”

She reached for my arm and shook her head as I attempted to leave her. “Beau. He’s crazy. He’ll try to kill you.”

“I know that, sweetheart. He won’t succeed.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he’s no terrorist or assassin. He’s not even a vengeful ghost. He’s just a fucking coward.”

She blinked. “You’re right. Go get him!” Her lips pressed to my cheek before she backed away. “I’m calling for help.”

“You do that.”

I strode toward the killer, pulled my gun from behind my back, and prepared to end this monster and his killing spree.